Nova Terra- Greymane

by Seth Ring

  The ringing of axes graced the battlefield again and the bridge was soon reinforced by newly cut trees. Balancing the towers precariously on the bridge, they were pulled over. Spreading out again, the towers resumed their advance, pushing toward the citadel.

  Ahead of them, curses began to ring out, mixed with laughter from the wall. Only fifty feet from the wall, the shield warriors had discovered another deep trench, though this one was a bit different. Rather than dropping straight down, this trench featured a long, sloped side that dropped more than ten feet down into the earth, ending abruptly with a ten-foot wall of dirt.

  Short enough that the tower’s exits were too high to be easy to use, the wall of dirt would require the ladders to climb. However, if the ladders were being used to climb up the wall of the trench, they could not be used for climbing up the citadel’s wall until the whole army finished getting over the trench.

  On top of that, the endless rain of arrows had not let up for even a moment and once they were within fifty feet of the wall, the shorter distance would make the arrows more dangerous. Not to mention, the whole army had heard about the magic from Mina and Velin the night before and fifty feet was perfect range for the Ice Witch and War Priestess’ spells. Looking at each other in frustration, none of the officers wanted to be the one to order their forces to breach the dirt wall. Without a doubt, the group that did would get obliterated.

  “Let our glorious leader decide.” A grizzled looking native officer spat on the ground. Already upset by how many of his men had fallen, he had no interest in sending the rest to their death. Nodding, the others agreed and sent a soldier to call Ouroboros up to the front.

  A few moments later, staring at the newly appeared obstacle, Ouroboros began to swear.

  CHAPTER FOURTY-EIGHT

  Without any other good option, the Crimson Snake army got to work trying to breach the dirt wall. Due to the height, Ouroboros commanded his army to focus on a single section, cutting into the dirt wall so that it would collapse. Packing the fallen dirt down, they dug into it again. As they repeatedly dug into the wall, a path began to emerge for the siege towers.

  At the same time, a section of warriors was sent to each side of the battlefield, using the ladders to climb up in a bid to distract the defenders. The shield warriors, who had borne the brunt of the arrows as the army approached the citadel, had been greatly thinned out and the other soldiers quickly found themselves at the mercy of the archers on the wall.

  Mina, running back and forth on the wall, dropped ice storms on the attackers trying to climb up the ladders. The swirling ice and snow slowed them down as they tried to organize a defense, making them easy targets for the archers on the wall.

  Standing in the center of the wall, above the gate, Thorn and Velin discussed quietly what to do about the siege towers. Between fifty and sixty feet away, the path that was currently being opened for the siege towers would be finished within the hour, at which point the superior combat ability of Ragnarok’s forces would begin to take effect.

  Without the wall to keep them away, Thorn knew that his forces would not last long. If they wanted to win this fight, they would need to keep Ragnarok at a distance, which meant finding a way to destroy the siege towers.

  “What do you think?”

  “We need to destroy at least three of them.” Velin scribbled furiously in her notebook, calculating the odds of success. “I would say that if we can destroy all of them, Ragnarok’s chances of victory fall to below twenty percent.”

  “Still that high? What about if we don’t destroy them?”

  “One hundred percent. If we take out three of the siege towers, their chances of victory should be at around sixty percent.”

  “What makes you so confident in their success?” Thorn asked, curious.

  “Ouroboros has not pulled back.” Velin sighed, putting away her notebook. “He is a cautious general and must have something that is giving him confidence. He would not stick around for this fight if he did not have a backup plan. But without an idea of what that backup plan is, we can only push forward and try to draw it out.”

  “Then we better start. Fancy helping me start some fires?” Thorn smiled and patted a barrel next to him. Ten barrels lined up under the edge of the wall, dark, pungent smelling tar oozing from their tops. Thorn lifted the first barrel, carefully aiming at the closest siege tower. Drawing his arm back, he breathed out, steading his nerves. More than anything, this would determine their victory or defeat.

  Offering a little prayer to Hati, Thorn hurled the first barrel. Turning over lazily in the air as it flew across the battlefield, the barrel fell slightly short. Whether from excitement or nervousness, he had not put quite enough power into the throw, and with a crack, the barrel landed on the edge of the dirt wall, spraying the ground that enemy soldiers were trying to smooth out.

  “Close. Let’s try that again.” Thorn muttered to himself as he hefted the second barrel. The next throw hit the tower squarely, coating the side of the tower in thick pitch. “Haha, that’s what I’m talking about!”

  With four towers to take down, Thorn’s goal was to hit each tower with two barrels. However, reality was not so kind and despite the initial success of his second throw, Thorn was only able to hit three of the towers. Vowing to himself to practice throwing in the future, Thorn stepped back with a sigh, motioning to Velin that the stage was set for her.

  The War Priestess moved forward to the wall, lifting her staff up above her head. Muttering under her breath, Velin focused her attention on the three towers that had been covered in pitch. The Crimson Snake soldiers were trying to spread the towers out again, but it was proving difficult since they had to move them one at a time. As they pushed and struggled, a clear voice rang out from the wall.

  “[Flame Storm!]”

  Horrified, the soldiers scattered, running from the towers as fast as their legs would take them. Instinctively they knew what the target of the incoming spell was and none of them wanted to bear its wrath. Above the middle tower the clouds gathered into a vortex, spinning into a fearsome thunderstorm.

  Yet instead of rain, large fireballs began to fall, impacting the tower and everything within forty feet of it. Smashing into the ground, the fireballs ignited the pitch, causing pitch covered towers to erupt into hellish infernos, burning so hot that the wood glowed white. With a series of bangs the towers bust apart as the abrupt change in temperature caused the water in the freshly cut wood to boil and expand rapidly.

  “Oh, wow.” Thorn stared, wide-eyed at the mass destruction caused by Velin’s spell. Throwing a quick glance at her, he noticed that her face had become paler than normal. Concerned he stepped forward and took her trembling hand. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes.” Velin took deep, calming breaths. “I just overdrew my mana. I’ll be fine in a couple minutes. But I probably will not be able to cast another [Fire Storm] for a few days.”

  “Not a problem.” Glancing at the inferno burning in the middle of the path that the Crimson Snakes had been carving through the dirt wall, Thorn smiled. “One looks like it is going to be enough. We are in really good shape.”

  *ding*

  “Haha, speaking of angels.” Throwing a glance at the message he had just received, Thorn was so happy he almost started dancing in place. “Mina, get over here! Captain! Get ready to give the signal.” Snapping out orders, Thorn supported Velin to the edge of the wall.

  Below them, the battlefield was in utter chaos. Thick plumes of smoke rose from the burning towers, forming a haze over the whole field. Along the edges of the battlefield, the Crimson Snake soldiers struggled to climb the ladders and attack the wall under the endless torrent of arrows from the defenders.

  Behind the burning towers, Ouroboros stood in front of his private soldiers, a strangely still island amid the chaos. Considering what sorts of countermeasures would allow them to breach the wall now that the path to the wall had been blocked, Ouroboros could only curse under his b
reath.

  “Sound the retreat.” The Exalted Devil Blood Berserker’s voice was hard enough to sever iron.

  Taking a horn from his hip, one of the Blood Guard blew three short blasts, signaling the end of the battle. Relieved soldiers streamed back, away from the wall, desperate to get out of arrow range. Watching his forces pull back like a tide, Ouroboros’ jaw tightened under his helmet.

  “We regroup at the camp. As soon as the fires burn down, we assault again. This time, we’ll take the vanguard.” Sending a final cold glare at the figures on the wall, Ouroboros turned to go back to the camp when screams began to ring out.

  The Crimson Snake soldiers had retreated as fast as they could back to the camp where they had collapsed on the ground. The assault had not gone well and those of them that had made it back were exhausted, physically and mentally. Yet their dreams of a rest were not to be. Moments after they made it back to their camp and sat down, two groups charged out and began to slaughter them.

  From the forests an army of almost two hundred charged out, cutting down anyone unfortunate enough to be in their path. Leading the charge were a hundred Wolfkin who sprinted forward in heavy armor. Crushing through the Crimson Snake soldiers, they opened the path for an even more brilliant group of fighters who followed right behind. As the attackers reached the center of the camp a brilliant figure flew over the heads of the charging Full Moon Walkers. Landing with a crash, a ring of blue flame burst out from them, cutting through the nearby enemies.

  “Roses, charge!”

  Under the cold eyes of the Full Moon Walkers, part of the force behind them suddenly accelerated, overtaking them in an instant. Thirty players pounced on the Crimson Snake army, wreaking havoc. A mystical light swirled around each of the women, connecting them together and giving them an ethereal air. Each had unique equipment and weapons, yet their movements were strangely coordinated, allowing them to cut down their enemies with ease. Within minutes the camp had been completely decimated as the Society of Roses killed off the remaining soldiers.

  “Keep moving, ladies.” The Queen of Roses strode through the camp, wisps of light tying her to all the other Society of Roses players. “We’re not done yet.” Above her head the flowing light solidified into a blooming rose.

  Ouroboros, reading a message sent from one of the players at the destroyed camp, paled.

  “Why are they here?” Unable to stop himself from losing his cool, Ouroboros shut his eyes, trying to calm himself down.

  Hearing their normally unflappable leader mumble to himself, the Blood Guards looked at each other, concerned. With a deep breath, Ouroboros turned to look at the citadel.

  “Well, gentlemen. It looks like it is time to attack.” Ouroboros’ voice was cold and bleak, yet the magnetic charm still ran under the surface, convincing those who heard it of the rightness of his words. “We have a seemingly impenetrable fortress before us, and certain death behind. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to kill some people before I die, so we’re going after the fortress.”

  “Sir, what…” One of the Blood Guards pointed at the camp that had fallen silent.

  “The Society of Roses are here.” Ouroboros cut him off, keeping his eyes fixed on the figure standing above the gate. Despite the distance, Ouroboros felt like he could see the giant’s calm face.

  “Society of Roses? Sir, there are two hundred of us. We should be able to defeat them.”

  “All of them. They are all here. Not a squad, not a group of them. All of them are here.” Ouroboros pointed toward the blooming rose appearing above the smoking camp. “The only way to survive this is through the fortress.”

  “Oh…” The Blood Guard fell silent and then turned resolutely toward the Moon Wolf Citadel.

  “Let’s go.” Not bothering to try and help the struggling remnants of the Crimson Snake forces, Ouroboros led his Blood Guard toward the citadel, even as the Society of Roses and Full Moon Walkers closed in from behind.

  Standing in the gatehouse, Thorn watched the approaching force, his eyes lighting up as he spotted Ouroboros’ black-armored figure. Next to him, Mina was pestering him with questions.

  “Who is attacking Ragnarok? Where did you find players crazy enough to do that? Are these the reinforcements you talked about? Wow, check out those fireworks. Hey, is that…?” Trailing off in shock, Mina pointed a trembling finger at the decimated Crimson Snake camp where an ethereal rose had bloomed. Next to her, Velin nodded, her heart beating wildly. “AHHH! You know the Society of Roses!”

  “Hmm? Yeah, I guess.” His eyes fixed on Ouroboros, Thorn was having a lot of trouble keeping himself from jumping from the wall to attack. Holding tightly to the battlements, he breathed deeply, driving down the burning excitement in his chest that had grown almost unbearable.

  “You guess? What do you mean, you guess?!” Mina was hopping up and down in excitement. “That is the whole guild, too! Do you know how hard it is to get the whole guild to move? AHHH!”

  “Mmhmm.” Thorn was barely registering her voice at this point. It wasn’t until he heard a crack that he realized he had manifested his claws, leaving thick gouges in the stone wall he had been gripping.

  *ding*

  Alpha Challenge

  A powerful threat to your pack has appeared. You have identified the enemy in front of you as particularly dangerous to your budding family. Per the ancient traditions, you are responsible to face the challenger, or appoint a champion to face the challenger.

  Should you lose, you will lose your position as Greymane.

  Fight for the glory of Hati, for the glory of the Wolfkin.

  Failure:

  Decreased Wolfkin Loyalty

  Loss of Title: [Lord Greymane]

  The quest served as the final push and without another thought, Thorn leapt the battlements. Startled by his sudden move, Mina and Velin dashed forward, their hands resting on the wall as they watched him jump down from it. With a massive boom, Thorn landed on the battlefield, sending a cloud of dirt and ash billowing. With a wave of his hand his massive metal spike appeared in his hand, leveled at the approaching Blood Guard.

  Climbing over the wall of dirt, Ouroboros stopped in front of the gate, staring at the silver giant who stood in his way. Behind him, the Blood Guard gathered, spreading out into a half circle to surround Thorn.

  “You’ve lost, Ouroboros.” There was no gloating in Thorn’s voice, just calm finality.

  “Not quite yet.” Ouroboros’ voice was also calm. “There is one chance left.”

  Striding forward until he was within twenty feet of Thorn, Ouroboros pulled a large, double-handed sword from his back, sinking it into the ground in front of him. Hanging his helmet on the pommel of the sword and flashed a winning smile at Thorn.

  “I must admit, it never crossed my mind that there would be a wall here. When I found out that Angdrin had discovered the location of a new spawn point for Wolfkin I could not help but be tempted to seize it.” Slowly removing his gauntlets as he spoke, Ouroboros hung them on his belt. “When Karrandras whispered to me that this was a chance to control the Wolfkin race, how could I resist? But imagine my surprise when I arrive to find the valley that should have been open for plucking was hidden behind a giant fortress.

  “And, only serving to deepen my surprise, who do I find guarding the fortress but my former companions? Poetic in a way. I used you and threw you away, yet you persist in a futile effort to stand in my way. I must admit, your spirit is commendable. Your spirit will not, however, help you here. Regardless of your struggle, as heroic as it might be, the valley will be mine. Not only will the valley be mine, but this fortress will be mine, and the Wolfkin will be mine.”

  Before Thorn could react, Ouroboros pulled a dagger from his belt, slashing open his palm.

  “[Exalted Devil’s Contract of Blood].”

  CHAPTER FOURTY-NINE

  Bright, crimson blood sprayed from the cut, swirling into the air as the ability activated. Gathering together,
the blood began to sway, as if it was burning. With a flash of red light, the blood collapsed, revealing a shining parchment hanging in the air in front of Ouroboros. Spidery writing filled the parchment, yet when Thorn looked at it he was unable to see what it said because the words seemed to skitter to the edge of his vision. The feeling that the parchment gave Thorn was one of deep evil, sending a shiver down his spine.

  “I, Ouroboros, initiate the sacred trial of combat under witness of the supreme contract.” Under Thorn’s gaze, the cut on Ouroboros’ hand healed as he reached toward the floating contract. “Under the ancient laws, this trial of combat shall be carried out without interference from any third party. The penalty for interference is death.” Ouroboros’ words manifested themselves in blood red letters as he spoke, hanging in the air threateningly. “The wager shall be the life of the loser and free passage into the valley for the winner, without any interference from a third party. The stage shall be this battlefield. The weapons shall be the armaments of the participants.”